


Wanderlust

by rightsidethru



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, Norse Religion & Lore, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom, Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: A story in which I make Loki 'Moana', Alternate Norse Religion & Lore, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Norse Religion & Lore, Alternate Universe - Space, FrostIron - Freeform, IT CAAAAAAALLS MEEEEEEEE!, Loki Does What He Wants, M/M, Prompt: Mermaid, See the line where the sky meets the sea?, Space Mermaids!, Tumblr Prompt, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, dailyfrostironficrec, dailyfrostironficrec monthly prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-24 23:11:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12023031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rightsidethru/pseuds/rightsidethru
Summary: For as long as the young prince could remember, Loki's gaze trailed towards the stars and the empty space beyond.*wanderlust- [won-der-luhst];noun; a strong, innate desire to rove or travel about.





	Wanderlust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [buying_the_space_farm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/buying_the_space_farm/gifts).



> If you've ever wondered what happens when you listen to ["How Far I'll Go"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cPAbx5kgCJo) on a continuous loop and combine it with imagery from [_Treasure Planet_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EA68KUb4e7Q)... well. Here's your answer. :|
> 
> Anyway, this is for the dailyfrostironficrec's September Prompt of [Mermaids](https://dailyfrostironficrec.tumblr.com/post/164859359664/september-2017-prompt)! ...well. Technically 'merpeople,' buuuut... [mermaids](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9a5MSCTGFoY)!

Loki could hear the low murmurs of the court just behind where he stood out on the great hall’s balcony. The nobles congregated together on groups, discussing—gossiping, in many cases—that this particular session would bring. Petty, silly things were whispered about behind hands, gazes shifty and hard as they watched the royal family from the corners of their eyes.

It was the sort of situation that Loki had faced, had dealt with, for many years now, and it was… tiring, being immersed in others’ small squabbles: there was nothing greater in him than a desire to duck out of this court gathering, to hide himself away in the bowels of the castle, to bury himself in one of the magic books that his mother had set aside for him to study from… to just be _away_.

His fingers curled over the cool press of marble, and the jade-eyed prince stared out over the star-dotted expanse where Asgard finally fell away to give way to the abyss of space.

Loki longed for something _more_ , to learn and explore and _be elsewhere_.

He wanted—

“Loki,” Frigga called, voice gentle as the All-Mother pushed aside the curtain to open up the main hall once again. “Come back inside, my son. It’s nearly time to start the Thing.”

He _wanted_.

With one last glance towards a freedom denied, the dark-haired boy turned and made his way over to his mother, settling against her side and within the protective curve of her embrace.

**

“Loki! Loki, where are you?! I know that you’re out here! _Loki!_ ”

The mage ignored the insistent calls from his older brother, gaze focused instead on the multihued river of the Milky Way as it wound its way, ambling and long, through the skies of Asgard. He sat on the precipice of a cliff, legs dangling out into the endless depths of the abyss below—where eldritch creatures and horrors unspeakable lived and preyed upon the unwary—and yet, despite the unknown, despite the dangers and uncharted expanses of the galaxy as a whole… Loki _yearned_.

“There you are, brother!”

A weight suddenly settled at the green-eyed magic user’s back, jerking him forward—though Loki didn’t go very far due to the fact that a burly arm curled friendly and possessive about his shoulders. Thor tugged his brother back into a half-hug, grin blinding upon his face even as his bright blue gaze danced above the faint traces of a beard that were just now only managing to come in. “Why didn’t you answer me?” the crown prince asked, good cheer never leaving his tone of voice. Thor’s embrace tightened for just a moment, flesh and bone becoming as heavy as manacled iron, and he shifted to draw Loki away from the cliff’s edge.

Resentment flared within Loki for a moment—two, the beat of a heart—but, eventually, he allowed himself to be led away from his stargazing. “I was meditating,” the mage answered in a half-truth that his silvered tongue typically fell to, and began to follow within Thor’s insistent embrace even as he yearned to settle back upon the ledge that looked out into space: wanting the stars to fill his vision and mind, drifting amongst them and the branches of Yggdrasil as he was not allowed to do in real life.

“Come now! There’s time enough to do that later,” Thor replied, smile as bright as a dwarf star, blinding in intensity, and the younger of the two brothers could not pull away from the gravity of the blonde man’s hold upon him. “Sif and the Warriors Three wished to visit a new tavern that just opened up, and I wish for you to join me. Volstagg believes that he will drink me under the table! You’ll cheer me on—won’t you, Loki?”

“If you are asking, then I suppose that I must,” Loki murmured as he swallowed a muted sigh, mentally dismissing the idea of returning to the cliffside at any point this particular evening: instead, he would resign himself to sound and colors and the sharp tang of alcohol as the others drank themselves stupid.

Silence and darkness and the rich velvet stretching out before him: it called to him, and it _hurt_ Loki to turn away from its siren-trilled song. He wanted; he needed—

Thor tightened his hold around his brother’s shoulders, and Loki followed.

**

“You have duties to attend to. Enough of your woolgathering.”

Loki glanced away from where he had been absently staring out the window, watching the sun bow beneath to horizon to give way to the purple-tinged edges of twilight, and lifted his head to meet Odin’s stern, one-eyed gaze.

The All-Father’s expression might as well have been carved from stone—so cold and settled as it was—and the younger prince slightly bowed his head in acknowledgment of his father’s reprimand.

“Of course, Father,” the green-eyed mage murmured in response, lowering his forest-limed eyes to settle upon the marble at Odin’s feet. The light that shaded the castle in golden hues continued to darken as he retained his bow, kissing the world with shadow, and Loki could _feel_ starlight surging, gleaming cold and silver in the distance, as the sun dipped completely over Asgard’s horizon.

Odin stood before his dark-haired son for several long, terse moments: watching, staring, assessing, weighing with the knowledge that came, hard-earned, after hanging himself for nine days on the gallows tree. Loki could _feel_ the Odin Force shift, eddies coming and going against his sense of _Other_ , the longer that his father stood gazing upon him:

Finally, silent, the King turned and made his way back down the hallway, booted steps heavy and echoing against stone and metal with every footstep forward.

When Odin was once more out of eyesight, Loki closed his lowered his lashes and _breathed_ , chest expanding as air filled his lungs and lightened the tension and the weight that had settled upon his throat like a yoke. Releasing that held breath, the younger of the two princes once again stood and made his own way down the corridor.

A twitch of his elegantly long fingers jerked the curtains shut, veiling the first twinkling stars from his gaze.

**

Loki stood at the end of the dock, the tips of his boots reaching out over the edge—nothingness beneath him.

Asgard spread out behind him, the city cupping the castle—his home, for as long as he could remember—before sprawling out towards the mountains in the far distance: and yet, even with all of the bounty and wealth and privilege just over his shoulder… the empty spaces between the dazzling pinpricks of stars _still called to him_. There was a yearning within his soul to go journeying, to seek out sights not yet known: to travel along the branches of the World Tree and explore each of the Nine Realms in a way that no one had yet managed to do.

He wanted to learn, to discover—to spread clipped wings and _fly_.

The urge— _gogogogogo_ —was nearly enough to pull him under and drown the mage, so encompassing was the desire, and it paired so sharply with the knowledge that that gleaming castle behind him layered itself over an arctic-cold lie.

Loki’s arm still ached from where the Frost Giant had touched him. So, too, was the image of how his skin had turned midnight-blue amongst the snow and blood-red eyes of his opponent. 

Away and far, lost amongst the stars, lost within _himself_ and the magic and currents of the universe that even now _called_ to him… It hurt to so constantly deny this part of himself.

“Go, Loki.”

The mage startled at the unexpected voice, and the young god turned to meet the Queen’s grieving gaze. “...Mother?” Loki asked in a low whisper, not daring to speak any louder—for fear of discovery or of his words cracking, he didn’t know. But the words would not come loudly and the air did not shudder between them.

“Go, Loki,” Frigga murmured once more and offered the son of her heart a trembling smile. “For as long as I can remember, your gaze has always been set on the horizon—and the space just beyond it. Go. _Go_ , Loki, before obligation and duty bind you any tighter.”

Loki paused for a moment at his mother’s words, imagination alight in all of the possibilities that stretched out, endlessly, before him: he paused, lingering, inhaled—and _breathed_.

He _breathed_ and turned to set one foot upon the deck of the ship he had bought centuries ago.

Loki _breathed_.

**

The solar stream flared out beneath the bow of Loki’s boat, multicolored and brilliant in magic and power and the lifeblood of Yggdrasil, and the mage basked in the sudden feeling of _freedom_ that surged through his veins: the vast expanse of space surrounded him, echoing in the marrow of his bones—and the one-time prince _soared_ towards the unknown.

The collar of princehood, of expectations and responsibilities and crushing perceptions, broke away, and Loki felt effervescent in just how light he felt in return. He was _free_ : he could finally define himself, unyoked and unchained.

Free, free, _free_ \--

**

The nights had fanned out before and behind him, time becoming an inconsequential thing to measure himself by. Loki had long ago lost count of the days—the months and years and centuries. All that mattered was how he drifted past black holes, skirting never-before-seen stars, small and large and shaded in all of the colors of the rainbow and beyond—kissing, there and gone again, all of the Nine Realms before heading back out towards the nothingness of the void.

Loki had come to know its hidden pathways, sailed beneath eldritch creatures that had come to dwarf his ship eons before; the abyss had come to welcome him, even as the mage made his way deeper and deeper into the nothingness that stretched out beyond the grasping arms of the galaxy.

On a night where sleep did not come easy, the one-time prince stepped out onto the deck of his starship, running a tired hand through his too-long, dark hair; exhaustion lingered in the corners of his eyes, the weight of sleep heavy upon the green-eyed man’s lids: yet, despite the desire for his bed, sleep did not come. Something, a feeling long ago remembered, kept the mage up and too-awake despite all efforts otherwise. A tug that centered just beneath his sternum and whispered at him to _gogogo_ yet again.

Loki stilled as he passed the steering wheel, sharp gaze catching on something that glowed, cool blue and as bright as the heart of the Tesseract against the darkness of space, along his ship’s railing. The green-eyed god took a step closer, another, yet another—

Whiskey-hued eyes lifted to meet Loki’s own, and the mage’s gaze widened at the sight before him: a man sat perched on the edge of the ship’s handrail, balancing easily despite the long, tapering line of a golden tail that trailed down out of sight. With chest bare, the god could see that the cool blue of the light that had caught his attention originally came from a sliver of starfire that was buried within the creature’s chest. A sculpted goatee, all sharp angles, and tousled, rich brown hair paired with that amber gaze, and that burning need to _go_ , to keep sailing towards the horizon, that endless, relentless pull—it quieted the moment that the other man quirked a mischief-laden smirk Loki’s way.

“What are you?” the mage whispered and took a step closer still.

The smirk sharpened and turned predatory, and the other’s tail swayed as he shifted to better balance himself. “I thought you had been raised with better manners. Shouldn’t that instead be: _who_ are you?”

Loki tilted his head to the side, eyes assessing and shrewd even as he came within arms-length of the unknown creature. “I already know _who_ you are: you’re the one that’s been… calling—calling to me since I was young.”

A laugh, as unexpectedly bright as a supernova’s exploded heart, came as the mage’s answer, and the creature reached out to cup a tanned hand against the too-sharp arch of Loki’s cheekbone. “I am, and I have been. And you finally listened,” the other man replied, and Loki swayed closer still until he could feel the faintest of breaths against his mouth as the creature’s chest expanded and contracted with every inhale and exhale: warm and slightly humid, _real_ against his lips.

“What are you?” Loki whispered again, gaze filled with amber and gold, metallic shades that gleamed in the space-and-starlight.

“A starsiren,” the creature answered with a widening, hungry smile and tilted his face the smallest bit upwards to kiss the green-eyed man. “And you _listened_ to me.”

Loki’s eyes closed and he deepened the kiss further as music and magic flared into existence around him, and his bones ached, drowning and ringing in power and _desire_ both, with the knowledge of the darkness and all that it held within its vast expanse.

The stars _sang_.

::fin::

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated! <3
> 
> *
> 
> Stop by and [say hi](http://rightsidethru.tumblr.com/). ;D


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